


A Memory in the Rain

by VampireBait



Category: L.A. By Night (Web Series), Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireBait/pseuds/VampireBait
Summary: A peek into Eva’s mind in the months between seasons 3 and 4.A single aspect of the many things that haunt our favourite kindred.
Relationships: Eva/Jasper, Eva/Katya
Kudos: 1





	A Memory in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Something that came to me during work on my first day back from quarantine.
> 
> It’s a little dark and melancholy.

There is only one single moment in her 50 years as kindred that Eva remembers perfectly. 

It’s a rainy night in a field somewhere outside of New York. 

A magical night, when she was turned into a monster, while at the very centre of what it meant to be human.

If she closed her eyes standing in falling water, whether it be in the shower or, as she preferred, the falling rain, she could take herself back to that moment.

Days after her turning Eva had found out that memories fade for Kindred. The thought of losing that moment to the creepIng fog of time was almost too much to bear.

The young Tremere had worked each dawn before she slept, to carefully frame the moment in her mind. 

She’d teased out every sight and smell, the stink of unwashed bodies, the slime of mud and worse beneath her bare feet; the way the music and the shouts of the crowd reverberated through her chest, felt more than heard. 

All of it, the good and the bad, she’d slaved over until she could walk in and around the scene from without and within and never forget. 

In all her years walking in the rain she’d lovingly take out and admire that memory.

Sometimes, over the long years, in her darkest hours, a voice in the back of her mind wondered if she hadn’t painted it over with the brilliance of nostalgia. 

Was the air that warm? 

Had the rain been that soft? 

Were the arms around her a loving caress, or a vice to keep her from running? 

She’d shake away her doubts most nights and let herself be lost, but lately…with Katya’s reappearance the voice asked her more and more; Was it really like that?

Living with Jasper, writing to Katya…sometime in the months that passed, she’d stopped listening to her music. 

Eva couldn’t recall when she’d stopped.

Jasper had helped her bring her player and vinyl’s into the haven. 

He’d thought of it before she had…perhaps that was the first moment she’d realised her world was getting darker. 

Had she played her records since then? 

The music had always been a gateway to that memory, above all things, the music… and the rain.

How many times had she dreamed of Katya being alive? 

Countless. 

Too many. 

She’d tortured herself over the years with the fantasy of seeing her Sire again; of walking the hills of the Park and turning to find her there. 

Her mind painted another picture then, one of bright colours, moonlight despite the rain and arms there to hold her once more.

What do you do, when your most fervent wish and desire becomes your living nightmare?

40 years dead, Eva’s memory of the woman Katya was, did not resemble the Kindred she was now. 

Eva told herself it was because her Sire had changed…but was that it, really?

Grief always made you paint the lost lover in flattering colours. 

They were smarter than they had been, quicker to laugh or offer words of care, the glow…there was always a glow around them, to hear anyone describe their lost ones.

For 40 years Eva had fallen into the trap of making Katya…more. 

Now she had to face the reality. 

She knew that Jasper could sense her despair but she had no real words of comfort for him, how could she when there were none to spare for herself? 

That memory, that perfect moment in the rain…

When she looked at it now, the night was darker, the music just noise and the embrace just the searing pain of fangs breaking the skin of her throat…


End file.
